Genestas' heart; he said
no more to his son, and they reached La Fosseuse's house in silence.

"You are punctual, commandant!" cried Benassis, rising from the wooden
bench where he was sitting.

But at the sight of Adrien he sat down again, and seemed for a while to
be lost in thought. In a leisurely fashion he scanned the lad's sallow,
weary face, not without admiring its delicate oval outlines, one of the
most noticeable characteristics of a noble head. The lad was the living
image of his mother. He had her olive complexion, beautiful black eyes
with a sad and thoughtful expression in them, long hair, a head too
energetic for the fragile body; all the peculiar beauty of the Polish
Jewess had been transmitted to her son.

"Do you sleep soundly, my little man?" Benassis asked him.

"Yes, sir."

"Let me see your knees; turn back your trousers."

Adrien reddened, unfastened his garters, and showed his knee to the
doctor, who felt it carefully over.

"Good. Now speak; shout, shout as loud as you can." Adrien obeyed.

"That will do. Now give me your hands."

The lad held them out; white, soft, and blue-veined hands, like those of
a woman.

"Where were you at school in Paris?"

"At Saint Louis."

"Did your master read his breviary during the night?"

"Yes, sir."

"So you did not go straight off to sleep?"

As Adrien made no answer to this, Genestas spoke. "The master is a
worthy priest; he advised me to take my little rascal away on the score
of his health," he told the doctor.

"Well," answered Benassis, with a clear, penetrating gaze into Adrien's
frightened eyes, "there is a good chance. Oh, we shall make a man of him
yet. We will live together like a pair of comrades, my boy! We will
keep early hours. I mean to show this boy of yours how to ride a horse,
commandant. He shall be put on a milk diet for a month or two, so as to
get his digestion into order again, and then I will take out a shooting
license for him, and put him in Butifer's hands, and the two of them
shall have some chamois-hunting. Give your son four or five months
of out-door life, and you will not know him again, commandant! How
delighted Butifer will be! I know the fellow; he will take you over into
Switzerland, my young friend; haul you over the Alpine passes and up the
mountain peaks, and add six inches to your height in six months; he
will put some color into your cheeks and brace your nerves, and make you
forget all these bad way